


Goblin Thrall Rue

by Pastel Comma (Regina_Hark)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bondage, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Goblins, Interspecies Sex, Knotting, Monster sex, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other, PWP, Pheromones, Predator/Prey, Public Sex, Scent Kink, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-05-31 12:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Hark/pseuds/Pastel%20Comma
Summary: Simply put, Prudence was not expected to survive.And even simpler, she didn't. None of the goblin-grabbed girls do.





	1. Prudence in Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's real. Prudence stiffens. He's here. 
> 
> The hero steps away. He's walking... past her? No! That cannot be. He can't leave her here to die!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains the following fetishes: Rape/Non-con Elements. (Brutal) Bondage. (Female) Captivity. Blow-job. Tit-job. (Mouth) Knotting. Excessive Cum and Fluids. (Implied) Cum-Drinking. 
> 
> AN//This is a flash-forward so uh, don't think the whole story is going to be doom and gloom. It has fluffy bits and fucked up bits. Case in point, the next chapter. I'll be updating this when I feel like it. But I do have some arcs planned out. 
> 
> Rue (in all her incarnations) has always been planned for a Goblin Slayer fic and with the anime coming soon, I thought I'd give it another swing. This won't be canon to Goblin Slayer or have any crossovers elements. I'd played around with Prudence/Rue in Palmtop Heroine (which I am working on) but then a friend forked over forty bucks because he wanted to read some goblin shit. I said sure. 
> 
> This is that goblin shit.

Buzzing wings circle a feast in the shade. Prudence's eyes widen. Corpseflies scatter. Surely, that couldn't be Ferris! "Ferris!" 

A green hand yanks on her staff.

"You'd dare-?" Prudence flounders, glancing over her shoulder. Town isn't far. She needs to bring  _help_ -

A blow swings her into darkness.

* * *

 

Prudence wakes half-chained to the ground. Cool air clings on her naked skin. They'd stripped her?! The goblins?! Who? What? When?! Prudence flails, attempting to rise from the weight forcing her to kneel and bend. Goblins use torture contraptions?! Prudence pales.

Of course, they do. They're shameless thieves!

The mage takes a breath. Okay, think. What does she _see_? What can she _use_?

Nothing is visible. It's too dark to make out walls or door or even the floor itself. Prudence swallows down a sob. Not now. Can't fall to pieces now. Her captives will know she's awake. Prudence draws her attention elsewhere. Sight won't work here. How about touch? Whatever's holding her, it's a type of stockade. Wooden. Newly stolen, perhaps?

Goblins aren't known for their upkeep or craftsmanship.

Prudence pushes herself through the middle slot. Bare breasts sway and slap. She's almost free, ignoring the cuffs on her hands, until her wide hips slam into the wood. "C'mon!" Prudence wiggles her ass, trying to tuck her cheeks in. Round her knees and ankles, chained cuffs jingle. She ignores it. The chains go taut.

Her legs are forced wide.

"No!" Cords wheels her forward. Prudence squirms. Her feet dig in and stone slits her heels open. "Don't. Don't!" She is slotted into a wall. Prudence hiccups. Goblins _do_ eat humans. But they're cowards. They steal from graves. They wouldn't go after a mage. Why would they? She's a threat. "Help! Please, someone help!"

Forced on the balls of her feet, Prudence is bent over the false gap.

Her thighs are open. Her privates exposed. Air sweeps up against her pussy folds. She flinches, the pain blooming across her toes. It hurts. It hurts so much. Her ass begins to sway, twitching, signaling to all that her pussy is ready for use. Prudence recoils. She stretches desperate fingers to the cuffs on her wrists.

Magic sparks from her fingertips. Alright, a plan. Why hadn't she thought of this sooner! Freeze the cuffs and-

The cuffs glow. Then devour.

* * *

 

Prudence sags low in her restraints. Moisture gathers on the chains hoisting up her bound wrists. She laps at it, her lips cracked and raw. Must be close to morning. The early dew. Prudence winces, swallowing with her scratchy throat. The first three nights held here began and ended with screams. The nights after that, she couldn't muster a whimper. Mages freshly graduated from an academy have a weaker immune system than most. It's true. Magic always takes its cut.

Her eyes search the thinning black. Fat as ever, the corpseflies sing and eat.

Sweat-stiffen, blonde bangs drag on the floor. A ribbon round her throat serves as a collar. It was her ribbon, you know! Hers! Filthy fingerprints adorn the sheer ribbon, reminding her of her place. Spirits knows where the rest of her clothes are. The goblins probably shat on. Pissed on her pedigree. Just how long do the cretins plan to keep her here? She isn't a bed-warmer! She's a battle-mage!

Her head pulses. The collar feasts. Not again. Thoughts bleed into black.

Prudence whines, pain swelling to her temples. Hallucinations flood her skull. A farmer saves her. A village girl. A pair of kids daring each other for a game. The pain intensifies. Must it gorge itself on every drop she makes! Ferris, oh heroic Ferris. He lived, dear saints, _he_ _lived_ and he's now crawling through the dark.

"Ferris! Ferris, please," she babbles, "Don't leave me here. Don't. Don't!"

Her vision warps and now there's a hero clad in green. Prudence sobs. Must her mind play tricks on her?! With morning here, the cave grows a shade bearable than the endless dark night provides. Walls are visible. So too are earth and chain and blood of fallen things. Ferris. But the soft darkness is also kind. There is him, the hero. So brilliantly green she can taste the leaf crushed to make the color.

The hero strides closer. Ah, she's hallucinating again.

"H-Hero," Prudence chokes out, "I a-apologize for my d-disgraceful su-sight. I didn't k-know you we're c-coming to the guild hall t-today. L-long lines, am I right? H-Hero, I had a dream. Ferris. Ferris died. Renna, she'd- she'd raped-" Clacking claws echo. Goblin? Goblin!

Prudence hides herself into her chains. Heat graces her face. She peeks. The hallucination doesn't fade away in a good blink.

 _He's_ _real_. Prudence stiffens. _He's_ _here_. The hero steps away. He's walking... _past_ her? No! That cannot be. He can't leave her here to die! Prudence pounces with her teeth, tearing deep into the loose rag-tasting fabric. She lowers her head, pleading. "Don't go, Ferris! Don't leave me here with Renna! Don't go first! Don't. _Don't_!"

Her mouth drags him into range.

Prudence rubs her face against his middle. "I was scared last time. I'm not now." What strange clothing the hero wears. "I want you, Ferris." She can't identify the make. "I want you, hero." It doesn't seem to be of cloth and metal. It's soft, flexible. A cord of common rope separates the curiously-made armor. Prudence sniffs him. What a scent! Potent like a fresh bit of timber thrown into a tin.

Long leafy tassels take to her sweaty cheeks. Is he wearing a warrior dress?

Prudence grinds in. The hero keeps on trying to backpedal away. She won't let him. He needs to understand why he's here and why she's worthy of being rescued! His hips are far more honest. Look at them. Slowly, and ever true, they begin to rock into her. His thrusts are clumsy, cautious. Not vigorous as heroic men are known for. Must he hold back?

An erotic stiffness pokes her cheek.

Ah, she's found his secret sword. Prudence stops her motions and glances up at him. She'd at least like a name. Heroes are suppose to announce themselves all the time. Or maybe he thinks she's unworthy. If she has his name, she could take him to court for sexual distress. After all, heroes aren't suppose to have their way with their rescued damsels.

But they do and happily leave a crop of bastards in almost every village.

Words gather on her lips. At last, she's clear-headed. "G-Goblins. Did you get rid of the goblins? They have my things and left me here for at least three days," she coughs, pain flaring across her throat. "I haven't been attacked, I think, but I do believe they're planned to eat me. Preserving my meat til the last moment possible. There were others. Are others. I am, or I wasn't,  alone."

The hero doesn't answer. He doesn't even appear to be listening.

He, instead, wrestles with something in a pouch. The drawstring whistle open. Village-made. Quality pouches don't make that sound. A grimy finger presses her chin and tilts it up. "W-What are you doing?" Water rains on her. She spits and coughs, the precious liquid gone up her nose. Weakly, she drinks. Thoughts flee her once more. Gratitude swells.

She can't give him any reward but her body!

Soaked to the bone, Prudence noses through the armor's tassels. A loin cloth juts into her cheek. Prudence bites and nudges it to the side. Waves of heat batters her face. Ah, that musky smell. She knows it. Oh, it's so much rich at the base! Prudence sticks out a pink tongue and takes that first promising lick. The hero adorably growls.

Wait, he...  _growls_? Could it be a helmet muffling his real voice?

His hand claws into her hair. It almost hurts. Undeterred, Prudence swipes at the fat crown. She's never had a man's dick before but it feels much fatter than described in her reading. Prudence lathers her appreciation. The cock-head is so husky and swollen. Engorged, it's as plush and wide as a small fuzzy plum.

And that smell...! It's too good, too thick as it spills over her.

Prudence laps at the folding slit sitting on the crown of his cock. She might've thought it as an odd piercing if it hasn't been for the sheer amount of pre-cum oozing out. Are men suppose to have such deep openings? Her tongue circles the slit. She dips in and goodness, does the hero grunt in pleasure. His hold eases.

Working her tongue, she thrusts in, worming round the gooey gap.

His hips rock forward. His cock slams into her teeth and there's pain all around. He has to be a virgin. They say men don't like a chance of biting anywhere near their dicks. Prudence sighs. It's not like she's any better. Blood drips down her top teeth. She laps at her gums. Blood is still liquid. She'll complain later.

The hero strokes her head. His fingers find her mouth and force it open.

Drooling round salty fingertips, a sweet salve spread onto her gums. Growls and clacking is apparently the best verbal apology he has to offer. It'd do for now. Tassels rustle and the hero has himself bared to her. Pleased, Prudence leans forward and returns to the good work. She licks her way to the bloated base.

Wrinkled and wrinkling orbs greet her plying tongue.

Pinching with her lips, she services his saint-blessed balls. Thick sweat dribbles onto her nose. She moves from one ball to the other, the hot flesh tightening and fanning out taut and stiff. Her mouth widens. A bit of ballskin gets in but the rest of the churning jewel is too daunting for her jaw-size. How big is he?

Prudence peppers the base with kisses.

She licks up the glorious length, the hero's heartbeat throbbing through the swelling shaft. Her mouth sits once more above the hero's cock-crown. Her lips widen. Wait, what if they hurt each other again? She can't speak with a full mouth. Prudence tests a grunt. That could be a signal for go and no, right?

Prudence pulls the cock-head in, the puffy crown bulging cross her cheeks.

The hero rasps, arching. To have such a powerful man on his knees..? Pleasure sails across her body. Neglected, her pussy twitches and drips. Prudence takes her time with the crown, rolling it against her molars and tongue. It's almost too big. Saliva fills her mouth. Prudence grunts with a happy-lit and more pushes in.

His husky cock rams her mouth open.

Prudence sloppily drools. Saliva and thick cum bubbles gush out the side of her lips. Ah-ing, maybe just a few inches of the cock's gotten in. He can't expect more. She's new! With her hoisted hands, Prudence makes a come-hither motion. The hero gets it. Kinda. His hips roll into her mouth much slower and safer than last.

'Please don't slam it all in,' words race in her mind. 'I'd lose teeth!'

The hero takes her by shoulders, using them as a hold as he settles on the floor. He's tall? Her mouth, and her head by extension, is directed downward. His cock thrusts up, fucking her mouth with a clumsy but promising gusto. Prudence matches his rhythm. Her head bobs, mouth tightening with every twitch racing up the shaft.

Muffled moans litter the air. Some might even be hers. He's loud, her green hero.

His thrusts falls to the wayside and his cock slides out Prudence's mouth with a loud, lewd pop. On the way out, the cum-greased member smears her chin. Prudence catches her breath. The hero grips his cock, milking it for more. The shaft slaps against her spit-and-cum-coated breasts. Prudence pushes herself through the slot.

It's not far. She's tested it. Never far enough for her to escape through. But-

Her breasts clap, the hero's cock the unfortunate victim between them. He gets the gist. Warily, he takes ahold of each plump mound. His long, jagged nails glide across her nipples. They harden. Stiffening for his touch. Expecting him to pound his tits, Prudence watches. In. Out. Then, you know, hot white stuff on her face.

The hero brings a nipple to his mouth. "Ah-!" His teeth are sharp, fang-like.

Prudence squirms. His tongue wraps around the nipple in his mouth. The texture of his tongue, "Oh-!", it's almost, almost- He milks the tender bud, sucking and rolling it round the sides of his teeth. Thankfully, the dull sides. His free hand paws at her other breast, gripping and fondling it like a new toy. She gasps.

A mouth on her breast shouldn't feel this good. She's about to cum off it alone.

Prudence steps back, scooting her belly through the slot. The hero follows. Her breast is spared from his onslaught. Freed, putty-like saliva coats her swollen tit. "Hero, I think-" A tongue barges into her mouth. Words flee. Her knees weaken and she goes slack, pleasure-drunk. They gnaw and nip and bite like dumb beasts.

She jerks back. "Hero," Prudence whines. She has a plan: Cock. Orgasm. Freedom.

Prudence rubs against his front again. Surely, he understands. Up goes the tassel and Prudence takes his cock. She still can't get more than a few inches in but that doesn't matter. She can get him to cum! Prudence licks the underside of that long slit going down the shaft. The slit gives. Her tongue slides in, rubbing.

The hero's cock swells bigger, fatter. It thickens inside, bulging her mouth wide.

Prudence groans in pleasure. The hero can't thrust anymore. His cock's so fat it's stuffed the inside of her mouth. Her tongue continues. She thrusts and thrust, cum squirting down her throat. Her eyes water. The cum tastes different than what she'd been told. It's gummy. Thick like hard syrup and almost as bitter.

She squeezes her jaw and he cums at last, drowning her in white.

Prudence gulps. The whole world gulps. That noisy outrageous sound resounds across the whole goblin lair, ringing in her ears. His cock shoots load after load, slowly shrinking down it size. It doesn't soften. The shaft, hard as ever, pumps away. How much cum can he store in those balls? Prudence swallows, growing fuller and fuller.

Too much comes at once and she gags, choking. The hero pulls free. His touch soft.

Prudence sags in her restraints. White moisture gathers onto the chain hoisting her wrists together. She laps at it, her lips swollen and red. Must be close to morning. The early dew. Prudence slurps what she can, drinking and drinking. Her thirst is great. Something meaty presses at her lips and she drinks it too, milking the puffy meat. It's tempting to bite. Her teeth nibble. Her tongue lapping. 

Footsteps pad away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I briefly considered writing a rape scene with all the pleading and crying and it's just not my thing. I like reading about characters that fall kicking and screaming into temptation. When another person forces them, it robs them of their agency and agency is what makes it good. 
> 
> You can probably see in this chapter. Prudence always initiates. But I do have another version of this chapter. I'll might post it in Scraps.


	2. A Prudent Mage, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Rejoice creature, I am a merciful mage. Know nothing but the pleasure I allow."
> 
> Enclosed between her thighs, the cock thickens even more. What is he sporting, a beer bottle?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains the following fetishes: Scent-Kink. Public Sex. (Both Virgins) First Time. Interspecies Sex. (????) Monster Sex. Face-Sitting. (Accidental) Femdom. (Accidental) Maledom. Thigh-Job. Hand-Job. (Pussy) Knotting. Insta-Fuck Disease.
> 
> AN// This arc will be going for about three(?) chapters. Then we get into the real meat of the story. Let me know what you think in the comments.

Buzzing wings flock to a fool in the sun.

Prudence musters a smile, one appropriately practiced hour after hour upon arrival to this port town. Her cheeks hurt. Her eyes water. Her jaw aches, twitching ever so. But this smile, this mere token of undeniable quality, will certainly get her hired. It wouldn't do to look anything less than adventure-ready. Even if adventure-ready, in her words, used to only mean a safe stroll on academy grounds.

Under her booted heels, the dry hillside crumbles. Someone might be looking.

Charm factor, activate! Prudence acts on cue. Blonde curls drape her green glasses. Skittish noises of distress croon out perfectly on key. All necessary for the role. Adventurers love a showy, simple-minded mage. Eager. Forthright. Not too much of a burden during battle. It's expected that a mage dress-down her true intentions. Be as simple as the common-folk of the Southern Continent.

Adventurers off the mainland are a unambitious people.

They may or may not slay a dragon. But it is never done out of a logical pursuit. Merely a martyring one. What value is a length of steel if it cannot fill your body? Does your armor give character references? Can the illiterates you save write letters of recommendation? A fool draws death. A mage draws profit.

She fiddles with the obnoxious ribbon tied in her hair. Green to match her eyes.

Prudence tides her bell-shaped skirts, emphasizing their volume and academy-certified value. Each owner's name sown in silver around the inner hem. Her summer cloak is much the same. Double-stitched and double-sided, it's been enchanted to absorb and repel low-cast magical attacks. All lined with a breezy fabric. Some light armor wouldn't be amiss. Think chainmail or a basic breastplate. But, of course, she doesn't plan to be in the line of fire in the first place.

The question: Meatshields? The answer: Meatshields!

She scans the grassy trail, feet stepping neatly into the footprints left behind.

Where are they? The trio of rookies she'd, well, stalked up the roadside. Afternoon hour, the sun casts a boiling glow. Mind you, stalking is too strong of a word. Practice doesn't always lead to promise. It takes time to work up the nerve for a pitch. She can't just invite herself along! It'd be rude.

And she does need to make a good impression on her future meat-shields.

Prudence cups her hands over her eyes, searching still. They couldn't have vanished. Tall grass wave in the scorching breeze. Yellowed like old twine. She scowls. Her eyes fly to the higher trail winding up the great lump of a hill. Even if they'd got so far ahead of her, very unlikely, she'd see them up over there.

The mage tilts her head. Weren't they, ah, weren't they hunting goblins?

Prudence nods to herself. Yes, they were. She overheard them quite clearly in the inn's eatery. Yet knowing that isn't all that useful. Goblins are pit-creatures and she's not about to walk the whole length of this hill to tumble into one. Prudence eyes a particularly soft-looking patch of grass. Greener than the rest.

She takes off her mage hat, bells jingling as the cord falls round her shoulders.

Prudence sits. As taught, she fans out her skirts to keep the fabric unwrinkled. Her stocking-clad rear meets stiff soil. It's oddly comfortable. Two rocks, she supposes, holds up her wide hips as her inner thighs lean on a sunken stone. The ground shifts under her, the soil loose and untethered thanks to the lack of rain.

She firms her seating stance and the shifting halts. Vibrations rise up her legs.

Prudence unclaps the flask, drinking. Today looks bleak. What to do now? Slink back to town and wait for the adventurers to come back? What if they don't! What if they're heading to the next town? Don't leave, meat-shields! Building a party at Pirewood is scarier then, well, impressing her way into a pre-made group.

A sigh escapes her soft lips.

Hips twitching ever so, heat pelts her inner thighs. It's nice. Gentle like steam curling up from a tea cup, the heat saunters through her slim white stockings. Sweat gathers. How could it not? She's wearing her Milford uniform, skirts and underskirts forming a flowering bud of frills and lace. Moisture pearls on her inner thighs, dripping one by one. Dew-like, they splatter and feed the soil.

The heat reaches her privates.

"Oh," Prudence murmurs, sighing once more. Perhaps she's sitting on a rock over a geyser's hot vein? It's just the right temperature. Pleasant and warm. Never erring, it bathes her unmentionables with a tender drifting mist. Her knees inch apart. She bears more of herself to the ground, her privates scooting closer.

Her scent takes to the air.

She's long since lost the expected scents of soap and good bathing water. Mucking around too long in heat and hill will do that. But her hidden scent, one of sweat and skin and stirring arousal, spills freely. That last one is a private scent. Unless a man concerned himself with her underskirts, no one could ever catch a whiff. Prudence minds the trail. If the adventurers do return this way, she'd be ready.

The heat shortens. Instead of a slow release, it grows ragged, rising in tempo.

Prudence throws the front of her skirts over it, changing her position. A geyser must be going off somewhere. Absolutely shameless, her hips begin to roll forward. Part instinct, part purpose, Prudence grinds down into the rounded stone. The earth shifts, pliant. When she thrusts, the rounded rock bounds back, granting her a fabulous friction. Prudence grows in speed. Her hips give little rabbity thrusts.

Raw heat slathers onto her stockings.

Prudence freezes. Oh now, she's disturbed the rock. The geyser water will surely scald her alive. Prudence rushes to move but her knees have sunken, fallen to muddy footholds she'd hadn't noticed. Of course, the ground couldn't be this green if there wasn't any water! Prudence gathers her magic, moving to summon frost but-

The solid heat licks up into her pussy folds, stroking through the fabric barrier.

Prudence's hips greedily go slack. Her hand covers her mouth. She moans, hips rolling down. The solid heat is almost like a tongue, long and serpent-like, it smears itself across her privates. Jagged stones, teeth-like, tear into her stockings. Her panty-sporting pussy trembles. The tonguing heat laps and licks.

Damp, the fabric goes clingy and useless. Each lick transmitting more and more sensation to her virgin unmentionables. She's not used to such an onslaught!

Prudence parts her legs further, kneeling horse-style over the grass patch. The tonguing heat peels her panties to the side. "Ah!" It laps her pink flesh, striking and stroking her unveiled mound. Her knees weaken. Prudence falls forward, her elbows precious pillars keeping her upright. Claws grip her.

She flails. Hoisted over her rear, her underskirts are open to all!

The town is right down the hillside. A thirty minute walk no less! If a villager or worse, a farmer with a seeing scope decide to look this way.

Her reputation-!

Pleasure swells and she's lost to a orgasm.

Prudence sags to the earth. Her hips hang upward much like a beast ready for a mount. Claws continue up her legs, cupping and poking them as she catches her breath. One unholy thought rattles in Prudence's skull. T-This isn't grass, is it?

The mage rolls over.

Lying flat, she sees her molester. A green thing. Prudence stares. A green thing? The creature nudges her thighs apart and wits lost, she lets him. Leafy bits and ends decorate its odd dress. She'd call it a mandrake if it sported the smell of rotting flesh. Instead, he smells earthly. Forest-like. Fresh moss wet with dew.

Sharp teeth tug and tear the strings holding her panties together. They snap.

She shouldn't let him have his way. It's a monster. It must be. The creature buries itself between her privates and she moans in hysterical appreciation. Her body won't obey her. Legs wrap around his small shoulders. The creature no bigger than a tall child. It growls, grunts sounding pleased when she rocks up into him.

Prudence throws an arm over her face. She's being violated. Defiled. Toyed with.

"Help," she calls.

Her feet curl.

"Help," she moans.

Pleasure whips across her body.

"More," she cries.

Prudence's hips twitch, shake, and shiver. That distant pressure builds into a crescendo. The creature pushes her thighs up against her body. His tongue, long like a grass snake, strikes her hardened pink bud. Her core clenches, hot and wet.

The creature stops.

Prudence weeps, her hands grasping clumps of dead summer grass. It won't stop looking at her unmentionables, her pussy. Prudence tries to close her thighs. They fall into some obscene game. Her thighs close. It nudges them open. The creature thumbs across her sensitive skin, pressing and pushing and groping with pinches.

She's too close to think of decency and morals now. "Please." Her hips arch up.

Prudence repeats, "Please." A sin is best to be whispered. "Now," she orders. Her sharp tone earns a wary grunt. Short but not weak, he pulls her hips flush against its body. "Now!" Prudence spits back. It grips her harder. "Now. Have me now!"

Her boots lock around the creature's head. She forces it between her thighs.

Prudence cums. Her orgasm washes over her, her whole body going alight and soft and meek in this miserable relief. Lewd fluid leak down her thighs. Her legs go limp. They fall off the creature's shoulders, the unknown thing still licking away at it her, coaxing more maiden drink from her privates.

Pink-faced, she pants. Privately, she shrieks. Why did she let it do this?

It couldn't be a goblin? The standard edition Centralian bestiary reports southern goblins to be downright identical to the ones last recorded on the mainland. Goblins are extinct at home. Hunted to their last. But the book said that goblins are red-skinned, stout-shaped, and foul to the senses. Imp-like and imp-shaped.

This creature wears green, and from what she can spot, is green in color.

He is darker than the leaves he wears. Thornapple-green. The creature's two heads shorter than her. If they were standing, he'd reach her stomach and nothing more. Prudence, mind you, doesn't consider herself a tall woman. His nails are black, obsidian in color, and they curve like claws. He sports a second set on his feet.

However, the rest of him is hidden. The foliage prevents proper identification.

Maybe, it's on purpose. There's a logic here. Creatures don't look like other creatures by accident. Had she not been so close, Prudence would have went with her first assumption and believed it to be a mandrake. Mandrakes grow and fester on the corpses of hanged men and wear their carcasses to hunt for human flesh.

It's bad luck to kill a mandrake anywhere but their grave. Tricky, ain't it?

Prudence sits up and brushes down her skirts. The creature watches her. Pointed ears, not leaf stalks, flex and straighten. Animal-like, he seems to be listening to sounds in both directions. It won't be easy to get him off his guard. Prudence swallows her apprehension. Her hand, hidden, quietly wraps around her staff. She needs to strike.

"Y-You monster," Prudence exclaims, flinging her skirts over her legs. "You really thought you could sample the maidenhood of a Milford Mage?! And, and get away with it!" The creature circles her. Crouching on hand and knee, it picks and pull on pieces of her outfit. Soft growls pepper the air. Prudence snarls right back.

"How dare you touch and fondle me as if I'm a paid whore? You're the whore!"

The creature recoils. Pointed ears, not leaf stalks as it looked before, flex and straighten. Animal-like, he seems to be listening to sounds in both directions. Bastard. Is she not worthy of his full attention? That's it! Prudence strikes.

The mage leaps on him, her thighs plenty heavy enough to keep him one place.

"Let's see how you like it." Prudence unhooks her staff and levels it across the creature's neck. "I didn't ask to be played with. I didn't ask to be a fool. I didn't ask for my maidenhood to be questioned by a monster! Want it? Earn it!"

The creature swipes at her. She laughs, cackling.

Prudence digs through the sheets of foliage. Its make is quite clever. The creature clearly doesn't know basic knots and as such, relies on a mix of spider webbing and sap to keep the leafy cloak together. The outside repels water. The inside keeps smaller creatures from eating at the various roots and greenery.

Unrelenting, she hikes the cloak up.

Prudence lets her fingers lead her. She finds his mid-section, the creature leaner and more human-like that she'd expected it. Muscles flex under her hands. He's a runner of some sort. Perhaps a scavenger? She thumbs down his belly, mildly surprised by thin layer of fur that sits on his skin. It's soft. Fuzzy like a peach.

A rudimentary loin cloth hides his genitals. Her fingers palm his thighs.

Hmmm, what is the best course of action her? She could grip him. Make it hurt so bad that he can't even look a human woman without squeezing his little legs together. But he needs to understand exactly how she feels. Humiliated by some ignorant opportunistic creature! To be pleasured on a public road on top of it!

Prudence swallows her apprehension. But to touch a man's privates, isn't that... worse?!

Her fingers fall and she cups him through the loin cloth, pink-faced all over again. The creature bucks. Prudence brings down the whole of her weight. This heat. This firmness. This smell. Musk blankets her. Prudence gropes him, gasping. His cock is somewhat prehensile. It's capable of tilting this way and that way, jerking as blood fills and swells the hot flesh. Dampness dribbles into her palm.

"You filthy thing," Prudence speaks, masking her unease, "Look how hard you are."

His cock tents, the loin cloth becoming more and more like sheepskin condom than anything used for privacy. Prudence works the middle of his shaft. She pumps it, using the wet friction of the loin cloth to slick up the entire member. All the while, the creature growls and spits. How utterly unappreciated it. Not many monsters can say they had a Milford-Certified hand-job. He ought to show respect.

"What a worthless cock, you have. Absolutely inferior to a real man. Sickening."

She tugs on his cock, swatting it. The creature's hips rock up. "Oh," her tone changes. Thoughts falter and flee. His shaft thickens around her fingers. Swollen or else, it grows fatter and tall. The cock juts out, a long slit and seam oozing white cummy cream. Her fingers toe around it, massaging and coaxing the puffy crown.

"I-I'm not lying. This is your punishment, creature! Know how outclassed you are."

Prudence peels off the loin cloth. His cum-coated cock wags like a dog's tail, splashing her with foamy cream. Prudence yelps. "My clothes, you oaf!" Prudence throws up her skirts and puts a lid on the whole ordeal. Let it stain the inside. She brings her thighs around him. Oh, the squelch...! Prudence blushes to her roots.

The mage rides.

"Rejoice creature, I am a merciful mage. Know nothing but the pleasure I allow."

Enclosed between her thighs, the cock thickens even more. What is he sporting, a beer bottle? Prudence slides her hips back and forth. Cum slathers her inner thighs, slicking them. Her speed goes up a tempo. Below her, the creature is out of that defiant spirit. His hips race into hers. Prudence rolls her rear, milking the weeping shaft in a hellish loop of flex and flesh. The creature arches, grunting. He now speaks in the universal language known as the approaching orgasm.

Males need that final squeeze to make them orgasm, right?

Prudence let her thighs fall flush against the creature's belly. She squeezes. Slick, the cock sails through the tight space to slap against her pussy. Eh?! Prudence skitters her hips away to escape but the creature thrusts up, pushing through her virgin slit. They cry out in unison. This is even worse than before!

"Stop it. Stop it! You're not worthy for my immaculate womb, you disgusting-"

All she has to do is pull away. Save her maidenhood. So why... Why can't she! It swells through Prudence. The sensation of being stretched and opened and plundered by a fat husky cock. Her wits wail. Hips shuddering, they sink onto the glorious shaft. She gasps, teary-eyed. It's all too much. Impaled, her slit widens round the thick flesh. Her ass claps onto his middle and she clenches, her hips instinctively thrusting forward. Prudence closes her eyes. She's not- She's not-

Flesh collides and the sound of sex crowds all of nature. A obscene duet.

Weak with pleasure, they thrust together. It's all quiet now. Breaths and sighs and fluttering gasps. Sloppy and clumsy, they fuck as one. Her folds tighten in that knowing way and she cums, her insides curling round the cock. The creature pounds into her. Still hard. Still relentless. Then it expands inside, bloating her taut belly as it bulges through. "No. No!" It cums, white pleasure erupts up.

Prudence's sight goes black with bliss.

* * *

 

Hours after, a sticky mage stumbles back into town. 


	3. A Prudent Mage, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You," Prudence's voice cracks. Anger swells. "You," she snarls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains the following fetishes: Mutual Masturbation. (Accidental) Physical Intimacy. Outdoor Sex. Public Humiliation. (Male) Forced Masturbation. Overstimulation. Knotting. Monster Cock. Cock Worship. Pussy Worship. Tit-Job. Ball-Job. Interspecies Sex. Monster Sex. (Accidental) Femdom. (Accidental) Maledom.

Night dwindles into dawn and Prudence is up and walking through a forest, carrying with her a bag filled with discreet devices. Why, you might ask? Resistance training! That creature with his unholy mouth and his corrupt cock violated her not less than a day ago!

This, dear spirits, cannot be allowed to stand unchallenged!

Meatshield-hunting can wait until she's put an end to this unchecked depravity! Prudence finds a nice secluded spot among the trees, the grassy space encircled by the thick flowering underbrush. She can just about fit without disturbing vining branches forming a dome-like top. The mage places down a straw-filled mat and a white sheet. Both to be burned after today. Why leave any evidence around!

The mage looks left and right, flustered. A Milford Mage can't have weak points!

Fingers pale and slender tremble as she brings them to her white top, undoing one button after the other. Prudence swallows her apprehension. Wet with dew and her own sweat, the frilly blouse sticks to her bra and breasts. It's gone transparent, peach-pink against her soft skin. She peels it free. "Ah," a sigh drifts out.

Hours spent hitting the history books and monsters bestiaries revealed to her a single truth.

Weak points!

Virgins have weak points that fuck-fiends exploit!  

Prudence glances round the forest once more. She's already feeling feverish, dizzy. Prudence tugs the last of her blouse off and stiffens, fawn-like. Her breasts are on display. They jiggle unsightly, generous mounds of tit-flesh bound in a snow-white corset with sea-green strings. Prudence's face burns hot.

She weakly brings a finger to loop round the drawn strings. "I have to."

Prudence pulls. The corset strings unravel in a flit of lashing cords. Her brazen breasts, now beholden to nothing but themselves, spill out. Prudence wobbles. Shame whips her jutting tits into a heaving frenzy. Round the rings of darker flesh, her nipples rise and prickle into shell-pink buds. They poke up, stiffen.The mage clutches her face. She moans in distress. This is a terrible idea!

Minutes come and go.

Prudence peeks between her fingers. She's alive and well and dear spirit, they're only tits. Prudence weakly laughs. They're just tits. Prudence glances down and cups them, giving them a squeeze. It was always with a bit of apprehension she walked with them around. They've always been assets. But, well, a woman's assets can be both a friend and a foe. Excuses for deviants and rapists.

Sex and proper sexual protocol is fuzzy in Prudence's head. They never went over it in school. Milford mages are to be discreet and own up to any public disgrace with class.  

Her ignorance on the matter surely played a part in yesterday. No one has ever looked so intensely at her privates before. Prudence's eyes fall to her skirt, her thighs grinding together. It felt good. Too good. His eyes roaming her lower lips and wet slit.

Shaky, her fingers move and undo her black skirt. She steps out of it.

Prudence removes the corset drooping around her stomach, sitting it and the skirt and shirt on top of her bag. The mage moves to her stockings. One leg up, then the other, she holds up the fishnet garment. It joins the folded pile. Now, lastly- Prudence hooks two fingers on either side of her panties. Hesitation creeps in.

The mage lifts her breasts with one arm, seeking to peer down at her front.

What did that creature see, she wonders? What led him to taste her privates? Prudence brings fingers to her mouth. She licks them, slicking them in her saliva. Prudence widens her legs and there they go, her fingers pressing against the fabric. The panties stick to her fingers. She peels free and presses lower.

Her index finger finds her hole and circles it, teasing out the lewd liquid.

Prudence sharply exhales. Her hips wiggle left and right. She feels... different. Before, it was all hot breathing and anger and this all-consuming need to cum. Like her breasts above, it's simply a pussy below. Not a weak point to be worried about. She strokes herself, finding a gentle rhythm. The forest wakes in sunlight.

This isn't part of the plan. She's supposed to already be on the straw mat, hidden in the overgrowth.

Birds sing and serenade. Squirrels leap and skitter across the treetop. And Prudence, mage extraordinaire, is touching herself in public. Humiliation boils up. Seeping, her panties glue themselves onto her swollen folds. She's wet. Greatly so. The fabric squelches round her fingers, the excess a thin gooey thread. She moves to her rigid clit. The bud alight with pleasure. Oh, she's-

With little care or hurrah, she cums.

Weak-kneed, Prudence bends forward and looks between her legs. Fingers grasp her waistband and tug the slim-cut pair down. "Goodness," she murmurs. A thicker string of female fluid stretches from her drooling slit and the damp underwear. How does she taste? Prudence spare a finger and takes a sample. Ah-! She's so sensitive down there. The mage musters a lick.

It's like a lewd jelly. Sticky and stringy with a hint of salt.

Prudence pulls off her panties and sets them to the side, away from the folded clothes. It's soiled and she'd rather the smell not travel to the clothes she'll wear back to town. Yesterday was a humiliating cum-coated stomp to her inn room and worse still, to the laundry room. All those inn workers know. Prudence crawls into the underbush. It's cooler here. The sun's dimmer.

The mage punches the air. Resistance training, start!

Prudence lays on her back, slender legs leading up to wide plump thighs open wide. Resistance training is not about merely exploring her weak points but understanding ways of attack. She could have fought that creature. Set him on fire. Blow him over the hillside. Freeze him in and shattered the remains.

But she hadn't. He wasn't a real threat, could never be, but she let him fuck her.

Prudence throws her hands into her face. Kicks the dirt with her bare heels. It just happened. It was so quick and fast and she'd, she'd felt so damn good. What if other monsters could do that? Make her feel so good that she couldn't resist. Or worse than that, a man or a woman? She'd turn into a someone's plaything easy.

Such a fate cannot be allowed.

Prudence take a breath. This is why she's here. This why she's training. Prudence runs her hands across her body. Part of it stings thanks from yesterday's defilement. Her belly tightens. She rubs it, feeling the skin tense and quiver. Her fingers fall across her hipbones. They sting the most, the flesh a rosy-red.

Those fingers slink lower.

They sit over her pale mound and two fingers pull apart her puffy lower lips. Whisper-soft, gooey strings snap. Prudence tugs the lips further apart. Cool air creeps onto the steamy folds. She shudders, her hips snapping up. Prudence swallows and remembers herself. Her fingers retreat to her inner thighs, knuckles brushing against them. Her head is heady, hazy and foggy like a opened tinbox.

Prudence kneads into her thighs. Her legs clap together, grinding once more.

Her free hand slinks upward. She thumbs her neck and collarbones, massaging the pinking skin. Her nipples, fleetingly soft, rise once more. Berry-fat, they swell the size of plucked blackberries. Prudence ignores them. They're the obvious weak points. Just because a fool grips or gropes them doesn't mean she'd give in.

The mage learns her body.

It would have been easier to do this at the inn. But the walls are thin, the inn workers chatty, and she didn't want anyone who asked for her, adventurer-wise to know she spent an entire day in bed. A Milford Mage cultivates a good reputation.

Besides, she does have a week to kill. The caravan won't be here anytime soon.

Heat spreads across her body. Her own heat. Prudence revels it in, touching and squeezing and pressing in until it goes stings with pleasure. Ah, she's close again. Prudence reaches for her mound, diving in with gusto. Wetness greets her hand. She shudders, thrusting down. Prudence grabs her wrists, pretending it's-

Faces don't usually come to mind when she's masturbating. And they still don't.

But Prudence imagines the long, bony fingers of that creature. She felt them on her hips, holding her in place as his cock drove in. "Creature, touch me here." an incriminating noise escapes. His familiar smell is quick to taunt her silly nose. She's dreaming it. She must be. He can't be here. She made sure to avoid the hills where he must dwell.  Her pussy clenches, squeezing. She remembers him all over again. Those green fingers with those black obsidian nails. Nature must have designed them to cleave the earth. Tunnel-dweller hands. Her fingers curl upward.

She circles her clit, stroking and stroking and stroking til it almost hurts.

Prudence move to her hole. She pushes her fingers in and spreads them wide just like he did. She moans. He got bigger and bigger and bigger. That thickness. Her hips seize together and she cums, clenching hard on her fingers. An orgasmic cry is caught between her teeth. Liquid swells and she squirts, arching up.

Blinking through the starry white, the mage weakly looks up at a green face.

The creature. Her eyes widen. He's wearing less than yesterday. A thin green cloak altered with large leaves down its back. His front is bare. Lean with muscle. White rags wrap around his middle, leading to a loin cloth and little else. She spies his naked face. Nubby horns sit on his wide forehead. His eyes glint gold.

"You," Prudence's voice cracks. Anger swells. " _You_ ," she snarls.

In his damnable hands are her belongings. The bag! The clothes! Her panties! She stares once more at the make of that cloak. It's stolen, isn't it! He's a thief. His long fur-tipped green ears fan back. She's read the monsters bestiaries. That's a fleeing motion! He bolts like the bastard he is, sprinting away.

The mage scrambles out of the underbrush. "Come back here, you bastard!"

Prudence snatches her staff from where it rested against the tree, thankfully ignored by the fuck-fiend, and swings it forward. Ice forms around the glowing tip and she fires. His reflexes don't fail him. He dodges, zigzagging to the left. Prudence fires again. A barrage of ice careens through the forest. "You've crossed me for the last time. Take your punishment!"

"You won't make a fool out of me!"

Prudence continues the barrage. A thought crosses her mind. Prudence summons more shards of ice and directs them upward, concentrating to keep them lifted. Prudence whips her staff back. The ice drop in front of the creature's path. He turns on his heels and she takes him down, wrestling him to the floor. "Ha-ha, bastard!"

The mage cackles. "You thought you could flee from the wrath of a Milford Mage? How pathetic. You are exactly where you belong. Under me as you should be."

Prudence rubs the crook of her staff in his face. "Who do you think you are? You think clothing are plucked from bushes? You stupid thief! None of it could fit you! Sell it, I'd find you. Burn it, you'd join it in the fire." Prudence snatches her belongings from his arms. She counts what she finds. Shirt. Skirt. Stockings. Huh? Where are her panties? "Why'd you take it, bastard?"

The creature struggles. He uses both of his hands to keep the staff off his throat.

She increases the pressure. His ears fan back. Clearly hostile. He remembers her all right. Prudence pats him down, searching. Her fingers find dangling frills. Checking his loin cloth, her innocent panties have been tied around his cock like a makeshift condom. Soiled with white, it's a grotesque display. Prudence goes red. She hadn't been in the underbrush that long. When did he even-

"You were there the whole time, weren't you? Spying and jerking one off, eh?!"

Prudence pulls up her staff. She swings it in a wide arch, calling forth spears of ice to seal them in. Prudence brings the staff back down, pushing it into his face. "Well, get on with it. Show me what you learned, you creep." The creature lowers his ears. He glares at her. Some form of comprehension passes in his eyes.

The creature pushes his loin cloth aside.

Oh, so that's what his cock looks like? It's a darker green, thinly furred compared to the rest of him. In its soft state, the girth is still rather impressive. A fat caterpillar in a cocoon. The creature grips his shaft, pumping it up and down. Prudence frowns. He's not doing it right.

"Like this." Prudence moves away her staff and makes a obscene gesture. "Touch yourself right."

The creature pumps slower. He tentatively palms his cock-head, squeezing his long cock-slit that seems go curve round his shaft. Human dicks don't have that. What could be the function, she wonders. This show of his goes on for five minutes. He's no harder than when he started. Prudence frowns harder. He's being so difficult!

"Waste my time, will you?"

Prudence gets on her knees. She rests the staff on the ground and sits between his legs forced wide for her. Briefly, a thought crosses her mind. Doesn't this feel familiar? Hadn't yesterday begin the exact same way? All of it fueled by her insane need to show the creature up! Prudence bats the useless thought away. Today is different! She knows her weak points now. 

"Knowing what makes you weak makes you smart. You ought to remember that, fiend."

Prudence leaves his cock as is. Instead, she touches his thighs. He flinches, hips instinctively trying to close. His knees lock around her and she ignores it, lazily stroking the furry flesh. He's so soft under here. Clumps of fuzzy fur grow thick around his joints, for insulation, she wagers. It's fluffy and so fun to pat.

She moves to his hipbones, thumbing them. His skin tightens much like hers had.

Her hands go father. They press down onto his chalk-green chest, meeting muscle and nipple. She teases them. Prudence rolls one with the underside of her thumb. It goes hard and tight, beads of skin wrinkling round it. Prudence does the same to the other. It ripens for her. Black as it is, she can't resist the urge to-

Prudence leans over his chest and open her mouth, popping one little nipple in.

Her bare breasts drag on his front. Nipples of her own going hard and stiff. Prudence laps at it. The creature goes still under her. His breath first normal soon become controlled and ragged. Prudence laps at the other, nibbling and rolling between her teeth. His hips buck into her middle. His cock digs in.

The mage lets go with a lewd pop. A string of saliva connects them together.

The creature stares at it, at her. She allows the silver cord to momentary remain. Prudence snaps it. His eyes go dark. Prudence moves to his long neck and kisses it. She maps it out with her lips alone, kissing and biting and licking it red. The creature ruts into her belly. That cock of his swelling nice and big.

Prudence pulls back, her hands once more on his hips, stroking them wild.

"Do it right this time." His hand warily returns to his cock. She absentmindedly hums her approval and his ears fan wide. Pre-cum gushes out the cock's crown, spreading a thick stream of white that dribbles out his long shaft-spanning slit. As his cock quickly crosses from merely fat to gloriously engorged, she sees the trick about him. That's not his real cock at all. It's a sheath!

Prudence gets on her elbows, wanting the best spot to watch. Her face so close.

The slit splits open like a flowering bud, sheath folds unfurling round and round until the true cock juts up into the air. Heat radiates free from its massive size. Emerald-green in color, the true shaft twitches in time with the creature's stroke. Veins throb through out the thickening flesh. Oh, the saints! It's-

Prudence presses her face into the base of the balls. The smell is too strong.

She inhales deeply, sighing in pleasure. Might as well end it quick for him. Prudence licks between his swollen balls and his twitching taint. The creature shudders for her. Prudence takes a soft bite, sucking on the blushing skin. She licks and lathers, the insane zeal racing through her, urging her on and one.

The mage makes her away to the top of his true shaft. She sucks the real slit.

His cum is sweet. Prudence knows right away he has a scavenger's diet. Fruits and berries and plants make the most of his meal supply. It's a bit salty too. Prudence rolls the bloat cock-slit in her mouth. Red meat is rare, isn't it? Maybe, he fishes? The creature thrusts up and she lets him, drunk with power.

Her breasts slap into his meaty shaft.

Prudence keeps her mouth wide, hoping not to nick him with her teeth. Her breasts fall around the cock, bobbing and slapping harder into it. Her nipples rub into the hot flesh. It feels so, so good. Prudence pillows her mounds round him, riding up and down. Cum slicks the way. She goes faster and faster, falling into a feverish pitch. His cock stiffens in that familiar way. He's about to cum.

The creature pulls back his hips. Surprised, the mage sits up. Wait, where?

He cums, shooting a hot load all over her. Prudence shrieks. Fat cords of foamy white dribble down her face, chest, and belly. It's so thick it looks like she's wearing modesty ribbons. Prudence wipes a nasty glob off her face. The creature sniffs, pleased. His ears jerk upward. His hooded eyes have a knowing look.

"Waste my time?" his voice a perfect copy of her voice and centralian accent.

Prudence recoils but the creature is quicker, spreading her open with speed. She tries to slam her legs shut. He's stronger than he looks. The creature forces her open and his mouth plunges into her pussy. "Just like yesterday," she moans. His tongue dives deep inside of her.

"Wait, I haven't gotten that far!" She melts like cream in the sun. Her thighs shake with pleasure. Moans crowd the air.

His cruel tongue grinds against her inner folds, weakening her resistance with his every move. She can't- An orgasm washes over her and she goes limp. The creature crawls on top of her. His chest vibrates. Does he purr!? His cock lines up with her hole and he rams it in, shaft and sheath together. Prudence screams, now nothing more but a cock-sheath for this monster. His hips slam into her own.

Below, her breasts bounce and jiggle.

The creature attacks them. Much like she did to him, he returns the favor. His black tongue coils round her tits, squeezing it red. The tip of his tongue tortures her nipple. He batters it, poking and prodding it rigid. Her hips slam right back. Instinct driving her. Lust spurring this lewd show on.

Prudence locks her legs round the creature. She meets his thrusts head-on, the sounds of sex racing higher and higher.

Between orgasms, Prudence loses her sight to the blissful black once more.

 

* * *

 

Prudence wakes in the lukewarm mess of her melted ice spears. The creature is curled against her. He looks smaller like this. She the big spoon, he the little one. His temperature burns hotter than her own. A feature of tunnel-dwellers evolved to withstand the colder climate of subterranean earth. What is he?

Shamelessly, she remembers the taste of his cock.

Why not have another sample before she goes? The score is now two to two. A draw. She can accept a draw. Prudence lets her nose graze down the fine black hairs that lead to his groin. His musk smells so good. Freed from the ribbon, spirits knows where it went, her blonde hair spills out across his lap. Her tongue finds his waiting tip. She licks, humming.

The creature stirs. His hand reaches out and takes a fist-full of her golden hair.

It's funny. Why does she feel like this, whatever this _is_ , feels right? Him on top. Her on top. Both is good. Both is great. Prudence banishes the thought. It's her inexperience causing this. No scent or trick. She'll up her resistance training.

How else will be she be able to resist his cock?

Prudence swirls her tongue round the thick tip. He packs quite the beastly cock. Soon, pre-cum ebbs up and she drinks it. Sweetness coats her tongue. Prudence's mind is elsewhere. How will she up her resistance training? Would practicing penetration help. The creature sniffs her locks. Their eyes meet.

"This won't happen again. It won't," she threatens, mouth filled with his swelling crown.

The creature snorts.

Which is it?! Does he understand human speech or not!

He gives the strands a slight pull. Prudence lets him lead her. Now on top, he brings a hand to her face. What is this? It's suspiciously like a human gesture. His thumb caresses his cheek. Prudence scowls. Barking laugh leaves his lips.

Prudence glances away.

Kisses pepper her breasts and a horrible thought crosses the mage's mind. Throughout all of this, she has always been the one to make the _first_ move. To _pursue_ the insult. Could she-? Did she-? Had she _COURTED_  the creature? Have they strayed down a taboo path?! A union of man and monster?! Prudence shakes her head.

This is _defilement_. More _defilement_. He took advantage of her... _again_!

Prudence lines his cock with her slit. Anyone can see that. They wouldn't think differently. It hadn't been her fault before and it's still not her fault now. Prudence swings her hips down. Her lower lips part and pressure wedges her open. It takes time to take him all in. She sinks inch by inch, the girth sliding slow.

Her cheeks clap against his groin.

Prudence begins to bounce. "This will be the last time. I won't want it again." She freezes. What did want have to do with anything. She hadn't wanted this. There had never been a verbal thought. And even if she did, it still wouldn't have been right. But the word want hadn't appeared until now, the too-real, too-close now.

It's a lazy coupling. Slow and pleasant and full of kisses from the creature.

Prudence can't claim insane lust now. Pleasure builds, swelling up from her core. Naming threats weakens their power. That's what the mages of old did to demons.

"Ignat," the mage declarers with a flourish. "You won't defile me no longer."

Magic whirls around her.

[You have NAMED a Monster]  
[Contract Conditions: Met!]  
[Calculating Stats]  
...  
...  
...  
[Goblin Loner Ignat]  
[Level: 6]  
[Race: Grass Goblin]  
[Race Traits: Night Eyes. Lesser Scent Sight. Iron Claws. (Forest) Goblin Tongue]  
[Learned Traits: Lesser Stalk. Basic Stonemasontry. Basic Craftmanship. Basic Knots. Lesser Monster Mimicry (Plant-Beast). Lesser Sound Mimicry.]

Eh?!

"No, that's not what I wanted." she swats at the floating words. "Begone, evil!"

Ignat flips them over. Already, he's different. Taller. Greener. He looms as much as he can, the divide between their heights now met halfway. He snaps his hips forward, fucking her into a gasping silence. It doesn't take long before they both cum yet again. She should really stop letting him fuck her. Ignat stares down at her, puzzled.

"What on earth were you talking too, mate? You're always sound so excited all the time. I'm happy to be yours."

Ignat blinks. His ears swivel as if in search of a sound.

"I've been granted the human tongue now." Ignat clicks his sharp teeth. "Amusing." his ears quirk, the left one fanning wide. "You're such a persistent mate. Just about every place I go, I find you trampling loudly through the grass. Don't think I haven't noticed that you do it on purpose. But it is strange. I've never met a goblin with a hide as such as yours. You look so human. Well done." 

"I _am_ human."  

"I've seen humans," Ignat says with a distant look in his eyes. "They're ugly creatures. My old troop-leader once told me that they grow wrong, eat wrong, kill wrong. He was right. I've watched them for many summers. They sleep with their meat in strange structures clustered together. They bewitch wolves to serve them. And more than that, they cursed us. Took our sisters." 

"Well, what do you think I am?" Prudence sputters, "I'm taller than you. I, uh, cast _magic_. I'm human!" 

Ignat cocks his head. "Humans can't be mates. Humans have to give back what they stole. You are my mate," he answers, smiling.

"-and if you are my mate, you are a goblin." 

 

* * *

 

Sticky as ever, the mage stumbles back into town.


End file.
